


Safe With You

by angelxtal



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Haikyuu - Freeform, Healing, High School, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Karasuno, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nekoma, One Shot, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 15:03:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16477802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelxtal/pseuds/angelxtal
Summary: For months Kenma has been struggling with sinking deeper into his depression, but he doesn’t open up to Kuroo about it. For the life of him, Kuroo can’t figure out what his boyfriend is going through, but when he finally opens up, he has to try and help him.





	Safe With You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first Haikyu story. Tell me what you think :)

**PROLOGUE**

APRIL 

 

Kenma twirled his way around the swing absentmindedly, feeling the blood rush to the sides of his skull as he spun. His boyfriend, on the other swing beside him, giggled in delight.

“I forgot how fun it was to go to the park.” Kenma marveled.

They’d decided to come out here spontaneously to swing on the swing set and talk all throughout the night. It was in the back of Kuroo’s neighborhood, tucked neatly behind the city. They would not have to worry about danger with the floodlights from the football field just a few hundred yards away. Here, they could be themselves, all alone from their problems.

All month Kenma had been feeling extra tired, a little…wrong, but tonight energy surged through him. Despite the wave of adrenaline, he knew that it would not last. Lately, it hadn’t been lasting more than an hour or so. After this, he would go back to feeling like his feet were being dragged on the ground. But for now, he’d try to make the best of it.

“I know.” Kuroo recalled, “Remember when we used to come here with the others, back when we were kids?”

Kenma chuckled. “I fell off the swing and hit my head. I thought my mother was going to kill me,”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I thought your mother was going to kill me! I was the one pushing you. I was terrified of her.” Kuroo could distinctly remember that he had been the one to suggest playing when they weren’t allowed to, and he had been the one to give that too-forceful shove to his best friend. God, he had been so scared of losing him that night. “I probably should’ve known I had a crush on you when I started crying because you had a cut on your eyebrow.”

“I wish that would’ve left a scar. That’d be cool.” Kenma could picture it now: an angled cut going through his eyebrow and over the top of his cheekbone, like a villain from an action movie. He thought it’d look good.

“I think you could pull it off,” Kuroo grinned. “I’m so glad, though, that that ice skating incident didn’t leave a scar.” Kenma bursted out laughing at the memory. They’d both been trying to impress each other, so they’d tried to spin around in circles while skating. Needless to say, Kuroo, standing just a little taller than the other boy, had had too much body for that kind of a move and had toppled over and hit his head on Kenma’s feet.

They’d laughed about it after Kuroo got an icepack, but up until then it had been a fairly traumatizing incident. “Ah, I miss those days.”

Kuroo’s smile faded. “I do too.”

Things were different now. High school had been going on for a couple years now and they’d started dating about 10 months ago. The revelation of their feelings for one another had been relieving beyond what they’d thought possible, but school was filled with pressure and their games were time-consuming. Even the things they loved took up too much energy sometimes.

Kuroo kicked his feet off the ground and pushed himself farther into the air. “I think it’s better now, though. As soon as I got old enough to understand that I liked you, it’d always messed with me. Now that it’s out in the open, it’s better.” He declared into the night. “Things are good now. I’m happy.”

Kenma looked down at his toes, glad that his face couldn’t be seen in the darkness. Yes, things were perfect with Kuroo, but that wasn’t the problem. Kenma didn’t know what the problem was, just that he didn’t feel right. “Yeah.” He whispered.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**BEGINNING**

OCTOBER

 

A strange sight greeted Kuroo when he came into art class on a Monday morning: two empty seats in the back row. On any normal school day, these were his and Kenma’s seats, where Kenma always waited for him before school. Where on earth could he be? Kuroo dragged his bag over to the seat and took his, the one on the left, just like always, waiting for his friend to show up.

Kenma hadn’t been in the hall or in the cafeteria getting breakfast. Huh.

Kuroo and Kenma had a routine. Every day they went to their classes together and went to practice together. They went to the games together and went home together.

Kuroo and Kenma had a routine, and this wasn’t part of it. In the mornings, they went to practice together, walking through the crowded hallways and fending off the younger kids who always walked too slow. After school Kenma always waited for Kuroo to get out of his last class so that they could walk to either their volleyball practices or games together. They even walked home with one another; never anyone else. That was when they made out! For the routine--forged tightly over the years they’d spent together--to be broken was for the earth to be shattered. It was for something to have interrupted it.

Perhaps Kenma was sick. Yes, that could be it. He’d been sick last week, but that had been a one-time thing. Kenma was never sick!

He could be hurt. He could be lost. That was unlikely, though.

Kuroo bounces his leg nervously, getting a bad feeling. The obvious explanation was that Kenma was late or sick, but both of those theories are strange. If Kenma was late then he hadn’t texted that he will be late, and he always did that. If he was sick, then why wasn’t Kuroo sick too? Oh, was he going to get sick? Should he go home sick too?

The second that Kuroo was let out of art class, he reached for his phone, hidden in his bag. Teachers at the school were strict about phones in classrooms, and his only opportunity to talk to Kenma all day would be in the hallway, texting behind a pillar in the lobby.

 

 

> _Are you at the doctor or something?? - Kuroo_

He sent, feeling rather desperate. He didn’t care if it was clingy to text so quickly or urgently; they were past that. This was Kenma, and it was weird that he hadn’t said anything about being gone. An unexpected absence rarely happened.

For a few moments he watched his phone, waiting for a response and thinking that he definitely looked stupid just staring at an unmoving phone screen in the middle of a hallway when he should have been socializing. It wasn’t like him to not be yelling with someone right now, hyping himself up about the practice tonight--the first one before their big game against Karasuno. Finally, a blinking text stared back at him. 

 

 

> _I felt sick. I’m staying home today and trying to sleep it off, so don’t worry. I will text you later if I’m feeling better. We’re still on for tonight, too. I don’t have a fever so it’s not contagious. Love you - Kenma_

Kuroo, despite himself, was slightly eased by this. Okay, so Kenma wasn’t dead. That was normal. That was good. But…he was sick without a fever? The flu going around right now was one that most definitely comes with a high temperature. Kenma couldn’t have been doing something else, could he? No. If he were faking sick, then he would’ve invited Kuroo to join him.

In a groupchat he had with a couple other players on the team, Kuroo sent out a quick message asking if any of them are going to hang out with Kenma after school.

 

 

> _No. He told me he wasn’t gonna make it to practice tonight. -Kai_
> 
> _I don’t think so -Yaku_
> 
> _Nah ur free to go make out behind the bleachers again lmao. But after chicken! We’re getting it after practice. Don’t forget. -Yamamoto_

The answer was unanimous. No, and Kenma wasn’t going to make it to practice tonight either. And that just wasn’t right.

Plus, where were the emojis in Kenma’s message? The ironic pictures? There was no evidence of Kenma anywhere in that text from him. Normally, there would be more content to a text from Kenma. If it wasn’t a fever making him feel strange, why was he acting so…dead?

 

 

> _Okay.  - Kuroo_
> 
> _He sent back to Kenma._
> 
> _Is there anything I can do? - Kuroo_
> 
> _No. I will be at the game tomorrow. Don’t worry. - Kenma_

After that, the blonde boy didn’t respond again.

The rest of the day was spent with Kuroo all alone. In Art class, there was no one to be bad at making art with. In Writing and Math class, there was no one to complain with. The other members of the team with which he had assorted classes with just weren’t good enough.

He needed to talk about how his parents were unreasonable last night and how he failed his English exam! Even though he texted Kenma these things, accompanied by cheesy selfies and videos of younger kids screaming in the hallways with an eye-rolling emoji over them, Kenma doesn’t send anything in return. Kuroo needed someone to congratulate him on how he did well with his History essay--someone whose opinion he really cared about! If Kenma were here, he’d be celebrating with him. But Kenma wasn’t here, and it was the first sign that something was wrong.

By the end of the day, there were three texts sitting on Kuroo’s phone sent to his boyfriend, left without reply.

 

 

> _Just took another shift at the shop. I’m gonna have enough saved up for us to go to the concert downtown next week! If you’re feeling up to it :) - Kuroo_
> 
> _Omg this class is unbelievably boring without you. I’m sneaking my phone in just so I have something to do. - Kuroo_
> 
> _The younger kids are so fucking annoying WHY DO THEY SCREAM?? - Kuroo_

* * *

 

 

Outside was freezing. The wind whipped through the rows of buildings in a violent path. Inside the chicken restaurant, however, the volleyball team was shielded from the destructive forces. Kuroo sat at the far end of the table, dipping his chicken in sauce and chomping on it loudly as he listened to a teammate tell a story of the English class earlier.

“It was the funniest fucking thing,” Yaku laughed, almost choking on his drink, “if Kenma were here he could tell it better.”

Kuroo nodded. Yes, everything would be better if Kenma were here, but apparently, he was feeling too sick to come, which Kuroo had promptly decided was bullshit. Last time that Kenma was sick and they’d had a practice, he’d threatened to  _infect this whole goddamn team. You think I can’t handle a little feeling like I’m dying?_  and yet here they were, at an after-practice meal which the boy was apparently feeling bad enough to skip.

Kuroo had to ask himself, was it possible that it had to be more than physical for Kenma to avoid practice?

“Why’s he at home, anyway?” Another boy asked, looking to Kuroo for the answer.

Of course, Kuroo would be the only one who would know because he and Kenma were so close, and yet Kuroo doesn’t have the real answer. Kenma was closing himself off, and Kuroo was beside himself trying to fix it. But what could he do when his friend pushed him away? This was the second time in the month that Kenma’d been “sick” and missed something they had planned together.

“He’s sick.” Kuroo lied, looking down at his food because he knew the others would not accept that answer for very long. It was widely known that Kenma was just about the most stubborn person there was. No way would he let himself be so casually sick. The guys would probably thing he was dying.

“Woah! The great Kenma, heart of the team, is sick? I thought he was just skipping to go get food on the other side of town like usual. Is he dying or something?”

Of course. Kuroo rolled his eyes. Because normally, Kenma would have to be dying to skip out on a practice. But things weren’t normal nowadays; were they?

Another teammate piped up, “He must be. I figured he’d always be too stubborn to ever stay home. At least this way we won’t all get sick too.”

The sentiment was irritating, and Kuroo almost wanted to hit the guy who says it. Kenma isn’t sick! There was something else going on!

A boy on the opposite side of the table grinned. “You gave him mono, didn’t you, Kuroo?”

Kuroo chuckled, eating his food tensely. “I hope not.” If this were any other time, he might’ve considered that to be an option.

Kai his head toward the dark-haired boy. “When will he be back?”

God, god, god. Kuroo was going to get caught knowing nothing about what his boyfriend was up to, like he was awful at taking care of him. Like he hadn’t tried to check in. “I’m not sure. My phone died a couple hours ago, but I’m headed to his place after this. Gonna bring him something to eat.” Kuroo lied again. He didn’t like lying to his friends, but he wanted them to quit asking about Kenma.

“Tell him we say ‘get better soon’. He’s too good a team member to have out sick for long.”

Kuroo raised a brow. “He hasn’t answered you?” The boy shook his head. Oh. So, Kuroo wasn’t the only one getting ignored. Should he be comforted by that? He hummed. “I will tell him. He needs to get better.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kenma didn’t want to go to school, but he wanted  _to want to_ go to school. He was so tired of constantly feeling exhausted and wishing that he were home, but those were the feelings that had been raining down on his life for the past few months. Today, he just couldn’t bring himself to go. Rather, he decided to stay in his bed and try his best to relax.

Though he had remained here under the pretense that he’d be getting work done, all he’d done was watch his animes and somewhat manage to calm down. Now, as the day began to wind down and he knew Kuroo would be coming over with soup, that subtle anxiety began to creep up into the corners of his mind.

Kuroo couldn’t see him like this: a complete mess. No. Kenma had a little dignity. Not a lot, but a little.

Every day Kuroo walked into school looking perfect, with his hair perfectly tousled and his body all tall and broad. Kenma couldn’t bear the thought of Kuroo walking in here to see that this dump of a room--with blankets strewn over his desk chairs--was where he spent his time.

His body felt like it was being dragged down to the face of earth, begging to kept in place. He forced himself to sit up, almost crying as he went. God, why was it so hard? He wanted absolutely nothing more than to go back to bed, but he had to clean his room. Why did he have to clean his room; why, why, why?

He opened the window, letting cleaner air swoop in and replace the scent of berry scented candles which Kuroo thought stank, and walked to the bathroom in the hallway. Brushing hair and teeth was essential, he knew, but his arm was being sucked downwards, his body being pulled back to the bed. He did it anyway, fueled by the need to be appealing. Once he met the bare minimum expectations for being presentable, he put on jeans, hating the way they scraped over his legs, and crawled back into his bed. Of course, only after shoving his clothes into his hamper, not checking if they were even dirty or not.

He was sure that he’d have no problem passing himself off for sick, even if he had lied about vomiting earlier to the school secretary over the phone. He certainly  _looked_  sick. He could see it in the mirror across from his bed. How had it been a year ago that he had stood before that same mirror, so energetic and excited for his first date with Kuroo?

He clicked play on his show and watched the animations flit over the screen. Minutes later, just as expected, the taller, dark-haired boy came striding into the room, thermos and chicken take-out container in hand. As always, his hair was perfect and his shoulders were broad. He looked like a model walking into a warzone.

“Hi. How are you feeling?” Kuroo asked, perching himself on the side and the bed and scooting closer to his boyfriend. He scrunched his nose up. God, Kenma was burning those too sweet candles again, wasn’t he? “You’re sick?” Kuroo set his bag full of food on the bedside table, abandoning them for now. He wanted to check in on Kenma before he went immediately to trying to heal him, which he would.

Only with Kenma was Kuroo a mother like this.

Kenma nodded, trying to shove past the guilt that stabbed him in response. It was okay to need a day home, wasn’t it? He just wasn’t sure that Kuroo would understand it. Hell, even Kenma didn’t get it himself. “Yeah.” He whispered, voice scratchy from not having talked all day. He may be over-selling this whole “sick” thing.

That seemed to really sell it to Kuroo. “Oh, poor baby,” he murmured, running a hand through Kenma’s hair. It was soft, recently brushed. “I brought you some soup in case it’s your stomach that hurts. If it’s your sinuses, then I brought you chicken. It’s good for the soul.”

Despite himself, Kenma smiled. It felt good. “Thank you. Let’s eat.” He didn’t mention the fact that the only reason Kuroo didn’t know whether it was his stomach or his sinuses was because Kenma had ignored his messages all day…

Kuroo smiled in return. The other boy looked completely worn out, with bags under his eyes and skin too tight on his face. No. Now was not the time to ask what’s been going on. Kenma just needed to eat and sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

NOVEMBER

 

Kenma did come to the next game. True to his word, he stood in the gymnasium stretching his legs, knowing that Kuroo was staring at him. For the most part, he ignored it. They were stretching as a team right now and it would be distasteful to make a playful remark before the other players.

When the circle of athletes finally disbanded, Kuroo walked towards Kenma and grinned. “You look cute in those shorts.” He whispered into his ear, taking his boyfriend’s hands into his own. “I like it.”

Kenma laughed. “I know. And is your jersey finally clean? A miracle.”

“Your complaints have finally been answered.” Truly, Kuroo had only gotten around to doing his laundry because he worked when he was worried, and he had been completely concerned with how Kenma was doing. Going over to his boyfriend's house while he was sick, apparently, was the secret to getting Kuroo to clean that his mother had been searching for for years.

Today seemed to be better, though. Kenma and Kuroo laughed and joked like normal, but Kenma made a little less eye-contact. He doodled on the sides of his papers and scribbled his signature over and over again absentmindedly, seeming unable to pay attention to anything in class. In a rather un-Kenma-like-fashion, he resorted mostly to distracting others in class, giggling away and occasionally saying that he was looking forward to napping later.

The jokes were unusual for him, though the exhausted attitude wasn’t. This week they had practice every night and it was understandable that the man would be ready to just go home. At least, that’s what Kuroo told himself. He tried not to think too much of it.

“You excited for the game? Feeling better?” The taller boy asked, stretching his arms a little more than he usually might.

The gymnasium floors squeaked obnoxiously beneath his sneakers and he cringed at the sound. Only a few days ago the floor had been waxed, so this game was going to be harder to get traction for. Well, they would make do with the challenge.

Something fleeting passed behind Kenma’s eyes, and he looked down at his feet as he stretched his arms, just nodding.

“Are you sure? You seem kinda out of it. You know if you need to sit one out, we’re all okay with that.”

Kuroo didn’t want to make it seem like they didn’t need Kenma. They do, but he also cared more about his boyfriend’s well-being than he did about the games. Kenma, however, equated Kuroo’s wellbeing with the games. He was on the team so that he could spend time with his best friend, after all, and Kenma wasn’t going to flake on the team just because he was sick if it meant that he’d be letting Kuroo down. They were better than that.

Kenma frowned. Was it that obvious that he’d been feeling weird lately? He hadn’t thought it was that obvious. He only stared off into space sometimes… “Nah. I’m alright. Gonna kick Karasuno’s ass tonight.” Eager to get their conversation back on track to something they’d normally be talking about before a game, he pictured the last time they’d beat Karasuno. Honestly, despite everything, he still looked forward to winning. Winning would make him feel better, surely. “You ready to see the looks on their faces?” He asked with a wicked grin.

“Never been readier,” another team member yelled, tossing himself into their conversation. “Let’s go!”

Kuroo huffed, just moving his neck to the side to crack it. Whatever. He would ask Kenma about it after the game. He couldn’t avoid him forever!

During the game, everything went as planned. The game was a nearly robotic process, one that Kenma found comfort in. Though he didn’t feel the same surge of enthusiasm as he usually did when the ball hit the floor on the other team’s side, the adrenaline was pleasant. All of his other problems melted away, and he was left sweating from the exertion.

Kuroo stared again, smiling widely at seeing his boyfriend finally enjoy himself. Its had been too long since the other boy truly looked happy.

After, the boys all run together and cry out with glee, exclaiming loudly in the other team’s faces that they had won! They had won! Then, they exchange high-fives with Hinata and all pile out of the gym. The adrenaline drained from Kenma’s body, and he was left with cold air in his lungs, even though he had been sweating for the past two and a half hours.

God, it was hard to calm down tonight. The air…the air wasn’t coming as easy. He stopped running minutes ago, why couldn’t he catch his breath?

Kuroo walked by him and gave him a congratulatory kiss. “Oh, Babe, that was so good.” He breathed, giggling to himself. “And you were right, their faces were hilarious. They actually thought they were going to win!” He exclaimed.

Kenma offered a tired smile. “Yeah; it was.” It really was. It really, really was a good game. It was the kind of game where they would go out for tea afterwards. So why didn’t he want to? How come he was just tired?

The only thing on his mind was a picture of his warm bed, sinking back into it and lying on a soft pillow, blankets wrapped all around him in a cocoon of warmth. Yes, that was what he wanted. The tea place was always cold and fruity smelling, tangy in his nose. That wasn’t what he wanted. All he wanted to do was sleep.

He could picture it now, a simple, _hey, I’m just gonna head home right now. I’m too tired for the after party._  But he could also picture Kuroo’s face…Kuroo standing behind the school, trying to come up with a way to get home after Kenma ditched him. No. He couldn’t do that. He could make it through the night. He could do it. He…he could do it if it were just Kenma. God. Going out just…just didn’t sound appealing.

He didn’t know why.

“What do you say we just head back to my place now? No after party.” Kenma offered to his boyfriend. “We can watch TV and make snacks instead. I just got some really good ones from the store.” That part was true.

Kuroo tried not to stare for too long. This was strange. Another instance of their routine being interrupted. But, snacks and TV doesn’t sound too bad. He would not mind getting some alone time with his boyfriend, anyway. “Okay.” He complied. “That sounds fun.”

The first thing they did upon arriving back at Kenma’s house was prepare the snacks. They packed together in the tiny kitchen, Kuroo wrapping his arms around the smaller boy’s waist and watching from over his shoulder as he sets the trays in the microwave. “I’ve never had these before.” He noted, looking at the package. He remembered liking. At least they were having good food, even if they weren’t going out tonight to celebrate like they usually would.

Kenma nodded quietly. “They’re new.”

Kuroo’s phone buzzed, and in the other room Kenma’s followed suit. It was from the Coach in their team groupchat. 

 

 

> _Good job today, boys. I’m proud of you! Rest up and get some sleep. Don’t stay out partying too long or you’ll be too tired for the next game. -Coach_

Kuroo laughed. “Like they’re going to listen. Yeah, right.” Actually, if things were going normal today, he’d be saying that about himself. He’d be staying out late, ignoring the advice of his advisors.

“They went for chicken again?” Kenma asked.

“Or to some party at Kageyama’s. I’m not sure. It was supposed to be fun though.” Kenma’s chest twinged. Oh, yeah. He was keeping Kuroo from hanging out with other people. Nice. “Not that I’d not rather be here with you,” Kuroo said, “I didn’t feel like going out with them anyway. I wanted to do something new and I’ve been wanting some alone time with you. It’s been too long.”

At this, Kenma smiled sadly. No, he doesn’t mind alone time with Kuroo. “Me too.” He leaned forward on his tip-toes and pressed a kiss against his boyfriend’s lips, the first thing that’s garnered a physical reaction from him in the past few days. Kuroo’s mouth wanders down over his jaw, but they’re interrupted by the beep of the microwave.

Kenma turned to take their food out and they retreated to the bedroom. The second that they were in the sheets, trays set on top of a giant clipboard Kenma had gotten from its place tucked beside his bed, the smaller boy settled with his back against Kuroo’s chest, a solid plane behind him. Somehow the hard abdomen made for such a comfortable place to rest. He hummed contently. “I love you, Kuroo.” He whispered.

The other boy smiled. “I love you too.” Maybe things would get a little better, and this was just a rough couple of months for him. After all, Kenma’s parents were working more and more. It couldn’t be easy when his parents weren’t around, the man figured.

Yes. Things would get better.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day was worse. Kenma laid in bed, glad that he didn’t have school today, and stared at his arm, stretched out beside him. It was a strange position in which he was splayed out like a starfish, but it was exactly what his muscles needed after being curled up so long. His hand twitched against the bed, but he didn’t feel anything. It was like it wasn’t his arm.

His eyes trailed along the limb and he breathed in slowly. The curtains were drawn in his room as he had retreated there like a snail into its shell. His arm twitched again. He couldn’t feel it. Again.

Across the room his phone buzzed, charging on top of his desk. He didn’t want to get it, but it was probably an email in response to his question about an assignment.  _I should get it,_ he thought, having no real intention of doing so.

He went to move his arm. It didn’t happen. He thought I should get up,  _I should move, I need to move,_  but his body didn’t’ listen. Instead, he laid.

God, this was bad.

 

 

* * *

 

 

DECEMBER

 

In Writing class, one of the only classes that Kuroo and Kenma had together after lunch, the blonde-haired boy stared down at his notebook rather than talk to the other boy. Kuroo was dumbfounded.

The prompt on the board for the Writing of the Day was, in Kuroo’s opinion, completely boring. Who wanted to write about something that they miss? It would either be writing about a dead person or a canceled TV show! It was nothing fun to think about! Why on earth was Kenma writing so attentively?

In his notebook, the blonde boy scrawled out,

 _I miss feeling good things. I’ve only felt bad things lately._ He was no master with words, and certainly not someone to enjoy just putting his feelings down on paper, but something about the continuous mess of handwriting, conveying his every thought, was therapeutic. _I miss going to games and feeling the cheers vibrate in my chest. I feel it but I don’t feel it. It’s there, but I don’t feel anything. I just want to go home. I just want to sleep._

_Everyone is gone. I don’t hang out with Kuroo as much and I don’t even know why. It’s my fault, I know, but it’s like I can’t control it. I don’t want to not be with him, but I don’t want to leave my house. I just want to rest. I just need to sleep._

_What’s the point of leaving, anyway? We do well in our games but they don’t need me there. I was only there because of Kuroo and now I’m only there because I’m supposed to be there. Sure, I used to like it, but I don’t feel anything anymore! I only feel tired! I feel too tired to feel. I just want it to be done, but it won’t be done._

_We have school so many days a week, and for what? I barely learn anything. It’s more about grades than anything else. And what do grades even matter? What do our games even matter if they don’t make me feel anything except for the stupid fucking urge to cry?_

_I didn’t used to cry. Not ever. Why am I crying now at every single thing? Why am I crying now when it’s ridiculous to cry in a class? No one cries unless they want to get fucking judged._

_I just want to go home. I want to not want to go home, but I want to go home._

He hadn’t written so much in such a long time, long since haven given up on the quality of his schoolwork. Why was it that when he wanted to write something, when the words came easier, they were about how sad he was? Why was that the only thing that he could feel?

That day, he went home sick early. Kuroo texted and asked if he could come over with soup again, but Kenma said he was just going to sleep. Kenma didn’t want him there, and Kuroo could not figure out why.

It wasn’t that Kenma was mad. No; Kuroo hadn’t done anything wrong. Besides, he knew what it was like when Kenma was mad. Kuroo knew the signs: the red-in-the-face anger, flush-spreading-down-his-neck, voice-getting-shaky anger. This was not that. This was something that he hadn’t seen before, and it scared him.

The next day, Kenma was still gone from school. The writing prompt that day was to write about his wishes. It was the one day that Kuroo participated.

He wrote out,

_I wish I could help Kenma. Or at least understand. I wish he would feel better, even if it’s not me who helps._

 

 

* * *

 

 

JANUARY

Kuroo tried to, in the only way that he knew, find out if there was in fact something he could do to help his friend. On a library computer, knowing fully that the school could see anything he searched, but not really caring, he began to search. He began to look and look for anything to help his dear friend, who was becoming unrecognizable.

Kenma had gone from someone who would be quiet around strangers but obnoxious around his friends to someone who was barely around his friends at all.

The canceling plans had mostly weaned off, but that just meant that it was clear Kenma was there when he didn’t want to be. It wasn’t even that Kenma was being rude about it; it was that Kuroo knew him well enough to be able to tell when he was having a bad time! He watched during every single game and every single after-school hangout and saw that Kenma would rather be sleeping.

The more Kenma forced himself to go out, the less anxious he felt about being a bad friend, but he still didn’t want to be there.

Every single day, the boy came to school with bags underneath his eyes, looking like he had been sick for years.

The first links on the computer glowed blue, unclicked because each and every one of them were exactly what Kuroo was not looking for.  _Personality change after stroke, no._   _Disorders that can change your personality, no._  Kenma didn’t have something like that, he didn’t think.  _How to change your personality, no._

He sighed. Okay. He had to find something! He’d asked his parents if he could come home late so that he could use the computers here!

Rather desperate, he searched depression and was alarmed to find that yes, the results better matched what he’s looking for.

Oh, no.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next day, Kenma was actually sick, taken out by a high fever with no real solution besides heavy sleep. After school, Kuroo came over with his usual soup in hand.

Kenma’s room, simply put, was a mess when Kuroo entered. Or perhaps that would be an understatement.

The floor was littered with t-shirt and shorts which belonged in the hamper and his desk was stacked with clear, plastic water bottles which had been empty for weeks. Kenma hadn’t been able to bring himself to put them in the recycling bin since the pile had started. His phone and laptop were uncharged, lights glowing a warning red, and his lamp’s light was burnt out. The room was not unsanitary in its lack of maintenance, but rather was a reflection of the boy who spent his time there.

It was unkempt.

On the bed, curled up in a little tiny ball, was Kenma, hair tousled and skin still too pale. He was sweating into his sheets in an almost peaceful way, as if he’d never have to wake up to the problems of the world, but when he arose there would be nothing but tranquility around him. He slept like he had fallen into another universe entirely--one of dreams.

As Kenma slept like the dead, Kuroo marched over the floors and inspected each article of clothing, tossing the worn ones into the bin and the clean ones onto Kenma’s dresser in a neat tower. It was a small task, but one that he suspected his boyfriend had been struggling with.

If what he’d read on the Internet was true, then Kenma would be struggling with daily tasks for a while.

Well, no more.

Kuroo set the hamper outside the door to be taken to the washing machines and, as quietly as he could, opened the window an inch or two in an attempt to bring clean air into the stagnant room. Oh, right. The air wasn’t all that clean in the city. It smelled a little like garbage. Maybe Kuroo thought it was better than those terribly sweet berry candles, but it wasn’t his room to make smell like trash. If Kenma preferred berries, then that’s what Kuroo would let the room fill with.

He parted the curtains a few inches, just enough to shed light on the full state of the space without waking the sleeping boy.

Kuroo’s intention was not to disrupt him or his preferred lifestyle, but to help. But how could he know the boundaries of this? Would Kenma be offended that Kuroo thought he needed help keeping house? Would he be embarrassed? Kuroo didn’t want that. He just wanted the best for the man, but how to get him there…

Maybe Kenma would fill feel better if they never had to acknowledge that Kuroo cleaned his room.

A new idea popping into his head, Kuroo moved to plug in his boyfriend’s laptop and phone into their chargers. The notification would show up on both, after all. He muted them and then reached for his own phone.

 

 

 

> _I came over to check on you but you looked too cute to disturb. I waited for a while in case you woke up but you were really tired so I will just see you tomorrow. Love you! – Kuroo_

He sent to Kenma’s phone, which remained silent as it received the message. He pressed send on another.

 

 

> _P.s., I left some soup in the fridge ‘cause it turns out I hate egg in my soup. I hope u like it its kind of gross though so brace yourself._

Perfect.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

As the days rolled by, Kuroo found himself trying harder and harder to help his boyfriend, even though Kenma hadn’t so far admitted to struggling.

In class, Kuroo helped him with his assignments and gave teachers an excuse every time that the blonde boy was gone. During games, which Kenma usually managed to continue coming to, Kuroo cheered him on more enthusiastically than he did any other player. He wasn’t sure it really helped to make Kenma feel better, but the boy did smile when everyone stared at Kuroo like he was crazy. Maybe he was.

At nights, Kuroo began a new ritual, a goodnight text with far too many heart emojis. Each time, Kenma replied with just as many. 

 

 

> _I love you too <3<3<3<3<3 get some sleep babe - Kenma_

Kuroo wondered if he meant them.

Then, he felt crazy for thinking so deeply into emojis.

Lunches, as usual, were spent with the whole team together, but Kuroo started to share little bits of his meal that he hadn’t used to before.

 

Before, it was always the same: Kuroo brought a sandwich and Kenma brought soup, both from their mothers. Then, they swapped them because Kenma didn’t like that kind of soup and Kuroo didn’t like that kind of sandwich. Every once in a while, though, they now swapped candies and sweet treats which they’d both been making an effort to pack in their bags. It was the one consistency in Kenma’s life.

During their classes, things remained just as boring as usual, with socializing mostly prohibited during work sessions. It was during then that nothing Kuroo tried could cheer up his boyfriend. The silence of the classrooms left Kenma alone with his thoughts, and those were far too dark for him to be attacked by in the light of day. He felt out place wanting to cry in such an average setting. Everyone else was fine, but here he was, thinking about ways he could get out of socializing plans he’d made and go home instead. Thinking about why these class assignments were worth it, about how he couldn’t picture himself moving on from his current grade.

The thoughts kept coming, and only stopped managed to stop occasionally when Kuroo or another teammate made him laugh.

 

 

* * *

 

 

FEBRUARY

 

The few trees in the city started to lose their leaves, curling in on themselves in defense of the snow. Inside the house was dark and cold, only the beds serving as a safe haven from the weather. Curled up in the sheets of his bedroom, Kuroo laid asleep in the night. It was dimly lit with just one lamp, yellow light pouring onto each wall in a faded shine.

Kenma, hunched over at the desk opposite of where his boyfriend slept, strained his eyes, only able to see the words on the textbook page when the ink reflected the glow. He’d promised himself that his work would not fall behind anymore, but how could he do that when he couldn’t even see what he was doing?

A new year was supposed to mean a brand new start, and in Kenma’s case a desperate sense of some sort of hope, but it seemed doomed when he couldn’t even find it in himself to finish basic homework assignments. He’d been left to complete them in his boyfriend’s bedroom when they were supposed to be resting.

“Babe,” Kuroo murmured on the bed, sitting up groggily, “what’re you doing?” He gazed curiously upon Kenma, who was curled up in his seat with a book in his lap, shoulders bent. The clock on the bedside table blinked a bright 3:15 A.M.

What on Earth was going on? Why had he woken up so early, and why was Kenma already up?

Kenma didn’t meet his eyes, and just started writing down nonsense. He had to make it seem like he was really doing work instead of just staring at the page and trying not to cry. “Um, I had some work left from Chemistry.” He mumbled. “You can go back to bed.”

This was not an efficient homework process to function on. Rather than getting the work done--a seemingly impossible feat despite all the extensions he had been given--he sat here staring down at it and thinking of nothing other than how he was going to fail, and it would not even be worth it to try.

Still lying in the swarm of blankets, Kuroo forced himself up all of the way. “We have a game tomorrow; you can’t be up late doing homework.” He tried, staring at the strange behavior before him. What was his boyfriend doing? Homework this late? Homework that shouldn’t have even taken priority over staying healthy and getting sleep?

“So, what, I just fail?” Tears threatened Kenma’s waterline. “I can’t do that. It’ll just take a few minutes more.” He whispered, voice watery. No, no, no. At this rate, Kuroo was going to know that he was crying. No, no. He hated crying in front of people. He’d rather go cry at the gas station in front of strangers than have a breakdown in Kuroo’s room!

The other player didn’t seem to notice the tears. “Tell Ms. J that you’ve got some stuff going on at home. That’s what everyone else does.” Kuroo was not afraid to use cheap tactics to get what he wanted, especially not if it meant being more prepared for the game. “Since when were you all freaked out about homework? And you missed practice the other day…”

An audible sniff sounded through the room and Kuroo’s eyes widened. Oh.  **** _Oh._ Oops. He should’ve noticed that before. He clambered up to his feet, legs shaky and weak from lack of blood-flow and stumbled his way over into the seat beside Kenma. The cold air stung his skin as he left the little nest, and he couldn’t imagine how Kenma could’ve been sitting here feeling nothing all this time.

He wrapped a blanket around his boyfriend’s shoulders and leaned over to wipe the tears from his face. There were plenty of ways that he could handle this, but he would settle for something that he normally would not do. He was not going to ask _if_ Kenma is okay, as he might be inclined to do under other circumstances. He clearly wasn’t alright. Kuroo had known this for a while.

No, no. Now, he would ask why. Or…not why, because sometimes there was no tangible  _why_ , but  _how_. A how can I help, how are you feeling, how can we solve it, how can we move forward?

“Talk to me, Baby.” Kuroo whispered. “What’s going on?”

If it were anyone else asking, Kenma would have lied and said that he was fine. But this was Kuroo. They had been through hard times together, and this time was no different. Every other time that bad things have happened in his life, it had been Kuroo who was there for him. If anyone could be trusted with a strange, strangled explanation of these feelings Kenma was experiencing, it was his best friend in the whole world.

“I’m not sure.” Kenma murmured, running a hand through his blonde hair and breathing in slowly. “I don’t know what’s going on with me. It’s like…It’s like I just…Everything is slowed down. The days just drag by—god, that sounds dramatic but it’s true—and I’m just so tired all of the time. I sleep even more than I usually do and yet it’s not enough.” Saying it out loud made him truly cry, a choked sob escaping his throat. No, no, no. He didn’t want to break down! He wanted to be normal.

Kuroo listened intently, glad that Kenma was finally opening up but disappointed that the other boy was, in fact, struggling. God, his boyfriend deserved better than that.

And what was Kuroo supposed to say to this, too? He was not sure quite how to move forward. Does he…does he just let him talk? Does he try to offer support? Quietly, he manages out a small, “do you…do you think you’re depressed?” The real question that has been on both of their minds lately.

At this, Kenma truly choked.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_  he berated himself. It was so ridiculous to feel this way, to cry over a textbook. Why couldn’t he just be normal?  “I don’t know. I don’t want to be! I have, like, things to do! Y’know? I have games and I have school. I have plans with friends, but I just don’t want to do it anymore.” He sobbed.

Kuroo figured that Kenma didn’t need to be interrupted. 

 

The blonde boy just stared down at the desk, shaking his head as he spoke and narrowing his eyes in concentration, as if saying it out loud could cure it. “Like, I went to do the dishes the other day and I dropped one. I started crying! I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just so tired. I’m just so done.” He whispered. “I’m ready for it to be done, you know?”

Kuroo’s heart beat faster. It hurt to hear those words come from someone who deserves infinitely better than to ever feel sad. Kenma deserved to want to keep going. He deserved the absolute best, and Kuroo wasn’t sure that he could give it to him.

“Like, I watched a stupid kids’ movie the other day and I cried again. Last weekend, I didn’t even go anywhere. I just canceled all my fucking plans, and god, I’m so sorry about that. I know it’s awful.”

Kuroo shook his head. No, this was when he would interfere. “It’s not bad to just need a break,” he soothed, “you’re more than just my boyfriend, you know? You’re my best friend. If you need to lean on me, if you need a minute alone, then that’s okay. I’m going to be here for you no matter what.” He pressed a kiss into Kenma’s shaking head.

It was too cold here at the desk with the freezing metal platform against their hands.

“Let’s talk in bed, yeah? It’s too cold here.” Kuroo murmured, leading his boyfriend over to a place where they could properly talk.

Kenma nearly whimpered. “God…I’m just so anxious about missing games and missing school and missing parties. I’ve let everyone down and I’m falling behind, but I’m also fucking anxious at the thought of going to anything!” He whined. Tears finally fell down his cheek, and he let out a cry. “I know it’s shitty to cancel and stay at home, but it’s like I can’t help it.”

The two settled into their usual position: Kenma’s back to Kuroo’s chest and the taller man’s hands twisted soothingly into his hair. He tugged lightly, just enough to remind the other man that he was there. “Even as long as you don’t want to go out, you’re always going to be invited.” Kuroo said. “We’re your friends, you know. We’re not going to hate you for missing a game. It’s…it’s worth it for you to keep going.”

No, that wasn’t right, Kenma thought. “It’s more than that. You know it’s more than that. More than just one game…” Kenma had been struggling to continue socializing for a while now, and it was only the fear of disappointing people that had kept him from closing himself off altogether. “It’s more than that…” He murmured.

“I know.” Kuroo said. “But we’re not holding it against you. Having strong relationships with the people around you is really important.”

“It’s hard when I keep canceling shit.”

The taller boy looked down. Yes, that was true, but it wasn’t exactly right. Once again, there was more to it than just that. “It’s hard when we don’t know why you’re doing that. It’s hard when you don’t talk to us.” Kuroo whispered. “I wanted…I wanted to give you time to open up to me about it, but I worried. I still worry.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kuroo couldn’t help but to snort. Goodness, he was really not all that good at helping Kenma, was he? “I didn’t tell you that so you’d be sorry.” He said. “I told you that because I want you to know that even when you’re struggling, when your instincts are to push me away, I will be here. If you need space, that’s alright, but I’m always going to love you. I’m always going to be here for you.” He sighed. “And, yeah, it’s good to not cancel everything, to keep living your life so that you can see things will get better, but I know it’s hard. I know you try.”

“Even if I’m a total flake?”

“Even if you’re a total flake, I know it’s not because you’re really a flake.”

Kenma sniffed. The sentiment was nice, but he knew that realistically, friendships were two-sided.  “I want to be accountable but I’m not.”

“We can’t always be accountable.”

“Yeah, but you deserve better than that.”

Kuroo smiled sadly. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Yeah. I do. We’re  _friends_ , remember?”

The joked didn’t seem to resonate with Kuroo. “And because we’re friends and you’re going through a hard time, I need you to worry about yourself first.

He stated, turning to look Kenma dead in the eye. “Don’t cancel everything, and when you don’t feel like being around a lot of people and you just want to be at home, I will come with.” Kuroo said. “But you need to focus on taking care of yourself, not me. I’m fine.”

Kenma didn’t know what to say. It was…It was nice to…to be told that it wasn’t all stupid. It was strange, though, to think that he should not worry about Kuroo. He had been concerned with Kuroo all his life. What kind of a change would it be to focus on himself?

Kuroo continued, “I can tell you all night that missing a few days of school doesn’t matter and that feeling sad isn’t permanent, but that doesn’t mean your anxiety will listen, but I’m still going to say it. Just so that when your anxiety finally goes down--and it will--you’ll get it through your head.”

Kenma breathed out a wet sigh. “I feel pathetic.” Kuroo didn’t respond. “I want it to be done.” 

“It will get better.” It was true. Everything in time healed, and everything developed. Sadness and depression didn’t last forever. “You’ll feel better; I promise. If you let me help, it’ll get better.”

“It’s more than just canceling plans. I’m not even sure if that’s just an introvert thing or a depression thing.” Kenma nearly chuckled, eyes aching. “It’s like…when I go to move, I just…can’t. I can’t do it. My brain will tell my body to do it, but it’s just so heavy.”

The dark-haired-boy thought back to all that research he’d done last month and how he’d thought it all to be useless when he tried to apply it to his every-day-life with Kenma. There were plenty of things that he thought would help, but so far, he hadn’t seen any changes in. Now that he was sitting here having an actual conversation about it, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could give it more time.

“In that case…well, I will just say first that you don’t have to worry about me telling people or anything, but I think that you should try to bring it up with your parents. Maybe not medication, but therapy at least. It’s supposed to really help. And, if it’s to that…I don’t know, stage, then you should reach out to them.”

Well, Kenma had thought about something like that before. Maybe it was kind of like how he wrote to himself at night every once in a while. Getting the words down on paper felt good. It was a release. Maybe saying the words out loud would be even better.

“See, that’s why you should reach out to them.” Kuroo laughed, devoid of all emotion. “I don’t know if it’s a stage or what. I’m not good enough at this to help make everything better. All that I can do is try to help…be there for you.”

Kenma glanced down at his toes, wiggling in his socks. That was just the sight he’d had when he was first getting together with Kuroo, when they’d kissed on the bed and Kenma had been wiggling nervously. This was such a different situation. How long had it been since they’d first kissed?

His parents…there were so many things that could go wrong. “What if they say no?”

“You’ll never find out unless you ask. If you want, I could be there too.” Kuroo offered, though he was pretty sure that Kenma would choose to be alone. It seemed that the boy was a little shy regarding this conversation that he would not want someone else to be in there for the conversation with his parents, if it would ever happen. “Unless you’d rather I not be there.” He added.

Kenma considered this. No; it seemed wrong to have Kuroo there. If he was even going to consider opening up to his parents about this, then it needed to be alone. It needed to be between him and his family. “I think I would want to do it myself. I just…I don’t know. They might not take me seriously.”

Kuroo nodded. “Well, I will be there. After. I’m sure you’ll be able to get through to them. They’re reasonable people,” he whispered. “But…it’s just important, I think, that you try.”

Kenma looked down.

“Things are going to improve; they always do. I will be here all the while.” Kuroo continued. “Do…do you want to talk more about it? As long as you don’t have, like, a therapist to talk with, you can at least talk to me. I’m not sure about my advice, but at least I’m a pretty sight.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood even as he asked if their conversation should continue down this path.

Kenma turned in his place so that his left side was against Kuroo’s chest. Those strong hands carded through his soft locks, and it was a little easier to breathe. “Sometimes I write about it.”

“Write about it?”

“Yeah. Started in Writing class, actually. I wrote about it once and after that I started doing it sometimes. I just…write what I feel. It kind of makes me feel crazy, but it feels better after that.” He sniffled. Finally, his eyes were drying and his nose didn’t sting anymore from it being runny. He breathed out a wet breath--one of relative relief. God, he had never said any of this out loud before. “Maybe if that helps, therapy would too.” He sniffs again. “I…” he closed his eyes, “I’m just ready to sleep now, though. This is fucking exhausting.”

It was true. All the energy had been completely drained from Kenma’s body. It wasn’t a rare feeling, but it was tiring anyway. Coming up with words to explain this situation which was impossible to describe was no easy task. After all, he didn’t know why any of it was happening, he just knew how it was happening. He knew the signs. What good was that when talking to someone who was not used to analyzing this kind of behavior?

Well, actually, it did feel nice to say it out loud. It felt like a weight was lifted off his chest…easier to breathe now. Maybe that would be the one accomplishment of the night.

Kuroo chuckled quietly. “Want to watch something?”

“Yeah.” He reached for a laptop and pulls it open to the screen of shows. “What’s the one with the doctor who can see death?” Kenma’s voice was still watery and weak. God, it sounded ridiculous.

Maybe he should see a therapist. Just…talking sounded nice. Talking without caring whether he sounded ridiculous was a pleasant idea. Maybe he could make it work.

“Oh! That one’s my favorite! I don’t know; it’s in Korean.” Kuroo said, clicking his way through the recently watched. “This one. The cover’s purple; that’s how I remember.”

Kenma knew that he said he wanted to move on, but he just…he had a little more to say. Because it was Kuroo here with him, he decided to open up about it. “I think having a therapist sounds nice, actually.”

Kuroo glanced down to the boy in his lap. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Just…I don’t know. I guess, I don’t want to make you sad by talking to you about this. If I had a therapist, I could talk without worrying.” He murmured. “I guess that’d be good.”

“Yeah. It’s good to have, like, a neutral party to talk to.” Kuroo said, though he knew that he didn’t actually know anything. That is, though, what Kenma would need the therapist for anyway.

The idea of having someone to just talk to and not concern himself with was soothing to Kenma. At least that way, he would not have to keep writing everything down, leaving embarrassing notes behind. He’d been throwing them away in the trash cans after kids tossed out yogurt so that they would not be taken out and read. Maybe he was a little paranoid, but the thoughts on the pages were personal and he didn’t want anyone finding out about them without this consent.

Yes, therapy would be a good option.

“The episode’s starting.” Kuroo quietly informed him. “You want to watch it?” The alternative was an implied  _or do you want to keep talking?_  

Kenma took a deep breath, shaking his head quietly. “Yeah. ‘s my favorite episode.” This was the one where the main couple  _finally_  got together. Just like when he had kissed Kuroo for the first time. Where was that bravery now? Of course, it hadn’t been all bravery. Kenma had been nervous beyond belief in that moment. The second that Kuroo had kissed back he knew it was worth it. “They remind me of us; you know…”

Kuroo chuckled. “How so?”

“Uh, the blonde one’s funny and cute and sweet, like me, and the brunette one is tall, like you.” Clearly, they were alike because of their personalities, but that wasn’t what really mattered.

Kuroo grinned. “Oh, yeah? You think that’s all I am? Some long legs?” He giggled.

“Definitely. That’s, like, eighty percent of your body.”

“That part’s true. Oh! I love the opening of the episode. It’s so sweet,” Kuroo marveled, looking at the screen and watching as the couple stood in the rain, staring into each other’s eyes. And then, “bang!” Kuroo said, just on time when the Warrior jumped out of nowhere.

“Let her go!” The man yelled, and the girl squealed in response. “She’s innocent. It’s me that you’re mad about!”

Kuroo giggled. “God, the dialogue is the perfect amount of cheesy.”

“Remind me again, when did you become such a romantic? Last time I checked, you made fun of me for liking In My Heart.” That was their favorite show from their childhood, one about a woman falling in love with her boss, but he was cold-hearted and secretly could travel through time.

“That show was good, but you definitely enjoyed it too much.” Kuroo laughed.

By now, the tears had dried and Kenma was leaning back against the headboard, legs curled forward so that they laid in his lover’s lap. He felt a little better now. There was less room for bad thoughts when Kuroo was here holding his hands.

They laid like that for hours, trading sweet comments back and forth and discussing how wonderfully predictable the show was. It was exactly what they needed—just some solid time to spend together. There in their bed there was no room for thoughts of troubles or worries about what the other would think when they raised an issue they’d been too nervous to bring up before.

Here with each other, they were safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I love any and all comments :) Tell my if you liked it!!
> 
> If you want more of my writing you can find me on my [tumblr](http://starkmarks.tumblr.com/), on my [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/admxtal), or just snapchat me @admxtal.


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